


what did you want to wear?

by orphan_account



Series: And other great titles [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Formalwear, M/M, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Roleplay, Slow Dancing, Teasing, USB Blasting, Wire Play, authority kink, hankcon - Freeform, you're weak if you think connor needs a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Local middle-aged bear dressed in formal wear pins twink against a wall and fucks him slowly.





	what did you want to wear?

**Author's Note:**

> the hankcon is literally writing itself at this point, wow :3
> 
> It’s one of those “please wear this outfit cos you look very smart and handsome and then we can dance to your old jazz records before you raw me silly against a wall” fics, i've never seen one in the wild before
> 
> I saw a [pic of young Clancy Brown in a uniform](https://lucbuenafe.tumblr.com/post/175971260296/young-hank-ohmygooosh-clancy-brown-as-captain) and, well, since I can’t climb that like a tree I realised Connor at least can.

Connor’s LED spun from blue to yellow to flashing red very briefly before finally settling on a mellow spinning blue, ready to go to yellow again if he kept staring at this photo.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson stood in what appeared to be a yard of a brick building, the photo taken from the side-on angle. It was old enough to have been printed on gloss paper, being kept in a file from back in the day when they printed all of this information out. Hank himself, dressed in a sharp blue and black police dress uniform, wore a stern expression with his usual air of authority, although his eyes lacked that usual loyal-gentleness they possessed now. His face soft and young, his hair a golden, blonde slicked back under his cap.

After a while, Connor’s thirium pump started to ache.

‘You doing okay there, buddy?’ Detective Miller’s voice brought him immediately out of his analysis again.

‘Uh, I…’ Connor said. He pried his eyes away from the photo in his hand to look up at Chris.  Remembering where he was, the police station break room, remember what day it was, August 18th 2039, remembering how he found what he’d been holding, searching through an old case file in the hopes it would bring up a new perspective on their current case. ‘Yes, I am completely fully-functioning, Detective Miller,’ he said, slight shake of the head.

‘You sure...?’ Chris said slowly, not convinced. ‘You’ve been staring at that photo for almost ten minutes now.’

‘I have?!’ Connor flicked his eyes down to it in alarm. He didn’t realise how carried away he’d gotten.

‘What, you stuck on a tricky clue or something?’

Connor forced himself not to speak for second because he knew if he did then he would fail. Pocketing the picture, he collected the file and prepared himself again. ‘Yes, that is exactly what is wrong, Detective,’ he said, standing up and straightening his tie. ‘I shall go enlist the Lieutenant for assistance.’

‘You go do that,’ Detective Miller said and Connor didn’t fail to register the mirth in his voice as he hurriedly left the break room.

¬

The washing up lay drying in a soapy mess when Hank heard the rattle of keys at the front door. He listened to Connor come in from where he sat on the sofa, catching Sumo in the corner of his eyes leap up to greet him, tail wagging.

Connor went into the kitchen first to dispose of his bags. Hank had asked him to pick some things on the way back from the station. He heard the little clunks and cattle of tins and other bottles being put away in the fridge and cupboards. Connor knew all the inner workings of his house now.

Once done, Connor walked over to the back of the sofa and flung his arms around Hank’s shoulders, planting his chin on the top of his forehead.

Hank chuckled. ‘Rough day at work?’ After Connor didn’t reply, he tilted his head up. From this angle, he couldn’t see much of his face. ‘You doing okay up there?’

‘Hank, may I ask you a question?’ he said.

‘You always gotta ask to ask me stuff?’ Hank grumbled, how he’d still got it in his head that he needed to ask Hank if he could ask him a question. But when he looked up again Connor was staring down at him now, brown eyes burning in the back of his skull. ‘Uh, yeah, go ahead, Connor,’ he said, gently.

‘Do you still have your formal police dress uniform?’ he said in a quizzical tone, titling his head to the side.

Hank frowned. ‘Yeah, probably.’            

‘Could you wear it?’

Hank’s eyes widened. He wanted him to do what now?

Connor continued on, determined, already with a plan B up his sleeve, ‘I have located several stores nearby that would sell something similar if you find it unable to fit you.’

Hank spoke slowly, ‘you want me to wear… my old dress suit…?’

‘Yes,’ Connor said.

‘Any particular reason why?’

‘No.’ Connor leaned down then until their faces were only an inch apart. ‘There are plenty of reasons.’

A hot flush washed through his face, Hank swallowed. Although he always felt a little more bolder when it came to doing spontaneous things while Connor was so eager to see the outcome.  ‘I mean, we have the whole evening I could-I could go put it on now, if you’d like?’ he said.

Connor brought his hands up to rest on his beard. He pushed his fingers through the short strands and half-smiled, ‘I would very much like that, lieutenant.’

‘Okay,’ Hank said, immobilised by Connor’s hands. He stood up, when released, and made his way across the living room towards the bedroom under Connor’s reassuring gaze. ‘Give me a couple of minutes,’ he said and disappeared into the corridor.

Hank found his police dress uniform in no time. Everything coming to a stop as he pulled out the navy blue sleeve to check for dust. He would have kept it in a covering sleeve but he always cared more about getting actual results than the appearance of grace and achievement, so the clothing had been left to fend for itself in the back of his wardrobe.

He took it out by the hanger and laid it out on the bed. Taking one more moment to properly reconsider this, he began to strip.

The trousers slipped on with little resistance, still fitting his long legs, and he only needed to leave the belt open by three extra holes, that was two less than he thought he would have. The under shirt, however, was a lost cause and he chose to abandon it entirely, for the jacket would cover everything it would do as well. Finally he slicked back his hair, quickly snuck into the bathroom for some gel, and placed the cap on his head with both hands. Now in front of the mirror he expected to hate his reflection, not that he didn’t usually anyways, but he managed to surprise himself. He put it down to Connor’s enthusiasm than something from within himself.

Hank walked carefully back into the living. Connor was on the ground with his back against the sofa, petting Sumo in long calming strokes. He’d removed his tie and work jacket, a black one similar to his old Cyberlife jacket but minus all the property labelling, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Not a completely at-home appearance but certainly a more relaxed than his usual attire.

‘Connor,’ he said, apprehensively stepping in next to the sofa.

Connor glanced up, a hand full of dog fur. ‘Yes?’ His LED flashed _red_. Hank couldn’t have avoided it, even if he tried, from the effect it had on his pulse. He wanted this, he really desired to see Hank like this in his stupid dress suit. Every day this android found new ways to surprise him.

His shoulders still felt too large and he smoothed down the front in an attempt to dampen the feeling. ‘I feel like an idiot,’ he said defeated.

Connor rose and approached him. ‘Do you want to stop?’

‘No,’ Hank said and Connor touched the side of his arm. ‘I do wanna know why though?’ He regarded the android up and down. ‘You’re not the type of guy to just have idea like this out of the blue.’

Connor dipped his head and for a moment he thought he wouldn’t answer. The hand didn’t leave his shoulder, however, and soon he delved into his pocket to pull a photo. ‘I found this old photo of you,’ Connor said, handing it over.

Hank took the photo. It was of him, in this exact dress suit back when he would be able 30-something years old. ‘Wow, that thing,’ he said, he went to ran a hand through his head but readjusted his hat instead. ‘That’s gotta be …almost 20 years old.’

Connor reclaimed the photo and threw it down on the coffee table. ‘Hank,’ he said. ‘I remember what we talked about, how the past is the past, and I don’t want this old version of you.’ He glanced back at the photo. An arm snaked around Hank’s waist and the other rested on Hank’s chest, fiddling with the first button it found. ‘Honestly, I don’t, Hank,’ he said, meeting his eye. ‘I wished to see how you would look in it now and, may I say, _I am not disappointed_.’ Connor slid the hand on his chest all the way up to Hank’s neck. When he met his eye this time, Connor’s eyes sparkled. ‘Would you indulge me in this dance, sir?’

‘I…’ the words dried up in his throat. Hank hadn’t been addressed with that title in a long time. He couldn’t deny something about it coming out of Connor’s mouth made his arousal peer out from under the covers.

He didn’t have time to object, Connor walked over to the record player, a record already set up inside it, and switched it on.

Smooth jazz swayed into the air.

Hank eyed him from across the room but as Connor approached his expression held nothing bar clear appreciation. Hank beckoned with his fingers, keeping the hand held out. ‘C’mere,’ he said.

Connor walked over, practically giddy, to take it and Hank rearranged his hands on his body. Putting one on his waist and another back on his chest, while he slipped his hands around Connor’s waist.

Flush together, they drifted into a simple rhythm across the living room floor. ‘Watch your feet, Connor,’ he said, ‘make sure you don’t stand on Sumo’s water bowl this time.’

Connor nodded, LED yellow. ‘Got it, sir.’

‘Connor..!’ Hank warned, although with no real bite behind it.

The man before him cheekily raised one eyebrow. ‘Yes?’ he said, totally aware.

‘Just…’ Hank sighed, deciding to finally indulge himself. If Connor wished to call him that, if he wanted to roleplay whatever this was, Hank decided he would be the last one to put a stop to it. His deviancy allowed him the luxury of choice now and Hank always wished to respect that. ‘Watch the buttons, they’re delicate,’ he said.

Connor’s eyes flicked to them and he repositioned his fingers away from the nearest one. ‘Ah, yes.’

They danced silently for a long time, bodies swaying and stepping in an easy harmony. Hank never found it hard to sync his movements to Connor’s with his inner metronome. He wasn’t overly warm pressed against his body since androids possessed no need for consistent body heat but Hank seemed to like that more because it remained something unique to Connor as a person. The track playing managed to widdle its way into his head and he found himself humming along in no time at all.

He spotted Connor’s LED spinning into yellow before he caught the tilt of his head coming up and suddenly those brown android eyes were on him. Connor smiled that soft warm one he’d first used back at Chickenfeed on the morning of the revolution.

Hank’s heart skipped a beat. It skipped several beats, in fact.

Connor titled his head, playful. ‘Are you okay, lieutenant?’ he said, feigning concern. ‘Your heartrate has increased.’

‘Fucking android,’ Hank gave him a look, ‘you know exactly why.’

‘I do,’ he said on a tune. Connor moved his hands back up around Hank’s neck to twirl him, the house wall appearing to Connor’s back. He pressed up against him. The head of the sofa bumped into Hank’s backside as Connor spoke, ‘I could find a way to make it go even faster if you’d like?’

‘Connor…’ he began.

‘It’s no effort on my part, sir, in fact I plan to spend the whole event on my knees.’ Like that Connor dropped down to the floor, the sight of which made Hank’s mouth run dry initially.

Initially. The sight settled badly in his head, however, and his mind flashed back to his time last wearing this uniform, a conversation between him and a superior officer, Harvey Dancard. The one who Hank never liked being around for too long on par for the fact he never kept his mouth shut. Not always a problem until Dancard started talking about the assistant staff, not all androids yet, and how he’d like to see them on their knees, working diligently to get him off. He’d stand in courtyard during parade days and lean up into Hank’s ear and whisper his creepy fantasy in all the vivid detail. Something about his tone implied he wasn’t one to ask for permission.

It had made his skin crawl and it made his skin crawl now. That creep had long been dealt with but Hank’s muscle memory couldn’t tell the difference. _Thanks, brain_.

Connor slid his hands over Hank’s thighs, warming him to his touch before reaching for the fly, and he tried to focus on that, on the feel of Connor in the present, of the actions now that he knew the kid was consenting to. But, try as he must, it didn’t seem to be working. He really didn’t want to be doing this anymore, eyes squeezed shut. He wanted rather to do something for Connor, this was his idea after all, he created his scene. Hank didn’t want to make this about himself.

‘Connor, stand up,’ he said, pushing away his hand. He realised how unintentionally harsh that had sounded when Connor’s face immediately stiffened as he rose up from the floor in a smooth motion, his LED spinning yellow, already trying to figure out what he did wrong. The answer to that being nothing, of course. Before he could get another word in and ask whether Hank wished to stop again, Hank cut him off. ‘Turn around,’ he said, commanding.

Connor stared blankly for one second and then did as told.

‘Take off your shirt,’ Hank said next. He watched Connor hastily untuck his shirt from behind and fumble over the buttons. Hank stepped forward then and crowded right up against his body, placing each on hand on either side of Connor on the wall.

Connor responded in kind by grinding his behind against Hank’s crotch the instant contact was made.

A groan escaped Hank’s lips of its own accord, ‘when did you start to play dirty?’

‘I learnt from the best, sir,’ Connor said, voice giving away no signs of the affect Hank was having on him yet. That would have to change.

 _Sly bastard_. Now, Hank wanted to push him fully. Nosing at the spot on the back of his neck where the lining connected, he made sure his breath ghosted over Connor’s skin, ‘open your pants as well,’ he said, lips brushing over the surface.

Connor’s hands jumped straight to his jeans undoing the fly and popping them open.

Hank smiled. He couldn’t see Connor’s hands from this angle but assumed from the silence he was done. ‘Good, now get them off,’ he said.

Connor let the jeans drop to the floor. He toed out of his shoes and stepped out of the pool of fabric.

Hank slid a flat palm down the expanse of his back, slipping under the shirt once at the bottom. He searched around for the spot where he knew Connor’s plating unlocked to find it already open, white bleeding out over the expanse of his back and disappearing down to the swell of his grinding artificial ass.

Watching Connor give into touch, Hank’s touch, and ask for it so freely, he fell in love with him that little bit more. He’d to admit he’d be very sceptical of this roleplay game thing at the start but, now, seeing how much Connor enjoyed and responded to everything made him want to give Connor his all.

He took action. Hank slid his hand into the panel and deep into the wires, making Connor moan softly. He loved that sound, since Connor only ever did it for him in times like these. Hank pushed his crotch further forward against Connor’s ass and didn’t hold back on letting Connor hear the pleasurable groan at the movement on his growing erection.

‘Feeling good for you?’ Hank said.

‘Yes,’ Connor said, sighing faintly.

‘Yes?’ He tugged on a particularly long wire and let it ping back against Connor’s form.

Connor jolted and let out a small whimper. ‘Yes, _sir_.’

Hank kissed a trail up to the back of Connor’s ear. He hummed behind his ear in agreement and dung his fingers deeper into the panel.

Connor shifted his weight, still grinding in a never-ending rhythmic pattern, and placed one hand over Hank’s to interlace their fingers. ‘Wait, did you still want my shirt off?’ he said, stopping to turn his head back.

Hank didn’t pause his fingers. ‘I’m not moving away anytime soon,’ he said.

Connor failed to suppress a shudder and leaned into Hank’s touch as he started kissing his neck. Continuing his rhythmic grinds, he squeezed the hand on the wall and sighed. ‘Hank, please don’t stop.’

‘Okay, Connor. I’ve got you,’ Hank said. He pushed his thumb in between some wires and brought it out again, while tugging on a thinner one where it joined at the side. Hank did that again and again, slowing his thumb right down until he could tell Connor felt every single movement of the digit passing over his wires.

As a result, Connor turned his head on an open-mouthed moan. ‘Please, sir, don’t tease.’

 _Tease_? Hank hadn’t even considered the possibility, actually contemplating the complete opposite to get Connor off hard and quick, so they could move somewhere else. But now he had Connor at his mercy, he wanted to see how slow he could push it. Connor had put that idea in his head and he needed to see it through.

He stopped his fingers almost completely, enough for Connor to notice. The android froze, head darting to the side, eyes trying to see behind him for what was going on. He didn’t stop his grinding, though, therefore, Hank continued without communication. He took his fingers and squished together the two thicket wires between them, so thick they almost looked like tubes, similar to the one he saw Connor reconnect when they interviewed that dying Traci at Eden Club. He gently rubbed them against each other while tapping a connection point with his pinkie finger. Faint, occasional taps and a sluggish roll of his fingers.

Connor shivered uncontrollably, left a whining mess. He bumped his head onto the wall. ‘Hank, I…’ the sentence died on his lips. He tried again, but didn’t get very far, ‘please, I…’

‘Ha, _please_ what, Connor?’ Hank buried his thumb in those thick wires and started to rotate it to reinforce his point. ‘You should be more specific.’

‘Ah,’ Connor gasped. Rolling his head against the wall on a quick mantra of ‘please, sir.’ Over and over, his voice slowly getting higher.

‘I can make you come like this, but it will be very slow.’

Connor whimpered at that, bottom lip trembling.

Hank pushed up against him more until Connor stood almost flat alongside the wall’s surface, his head pushed to the side so Hank could see his face. ‘I think I will, it’ll stop my hand from getting cramp at the least. And you seem to be enjoying it.’ When Connor didn’t respond, he asked quieter, ‘you are enjoying it?’

‘Definitely, sir,’ Connor said instantly. His android senses must have picked up on the hesitation in Hank’s body.

‘Do you want me to stop?’

‘No, sir,’ Connor let out on a half chuckle. He began clawing at the wall with both hands, anything to ease the pressure. His hands completely white now, the skin started to slide up to reach over his forearms.

‘Good.’ Confidence restored, Hank pushed his thumb back inside while searching out another looser wire to tug. He ran his lips along the bottom of Connor’s hairline, over the little freckles Cyberlife felt were important enough to place on his skin. Connor responded to the touch, skin disappearing to reveal the smooth white plastic underneath. Hank couldn’t decide whichever he liked the most. Either way, they were both Connor and he liked whatever he wanted to show him.

‘Sir, if I may…’ Connor piped in. He liked his lips and started again, voice breathy, ‘Hank, I like the wires at the bottom, could you tug on those?’ White hands on the wall pulsed into and out of half-fists.

It always felt weird to be poking around in Connor’s circuits – not bad weird though, more like when you eat a new piece of food and you can’t decide what you exactly you like about it yet – and the fact the panel and wires were so dry added another layer of weirdness, no wet slide or slip from lube or precum.

He had wondered if lube would affect Connor. Would the chemicals mix badly with his inner electronics or just make a mess that would be hard to clean up? He’d never complained about the rough friction before and perfectly understood Hank needed it differently the other way around. Hank thought he might try it out eventually, but at another time.

He brushed his fingers over some thinner wires drawn tight against Connor’s inner wall. ‘These ones?’

Connor squirmed. ‘Close… a little further down, sir.’

Hank moved his fingers until he couldn’t see them anymore but sure enough the fingertips brushed over some long stringy thin wires. Connor jolted full-body the moment Hank barely so much as touched them. These were definitely the ones.

Hank touched them again very slowly but Connor reacted the exact same. Clearly, they were highly sensitive, maybe too sensitive and not something to be fiddling around with unexperienced. He didn’t feel so certain about teasing with these but he didn’t want to break the roleplay Connor had carefully crafted around them. He needed to work with it, get Connor to explain what he needed to do in a way that wouldn’t break the cycle.

The kid loved talking through stuff, especially in a crime scene, clearly a way to make it easier for him to work with humans and any law officers he might encounter. Hank pulled back to place his lips right behind Connor’s ear. ‘Tell me what you want, Connor,’ he said. ‘What do you want me to do with these wires, _exactly_?’

His LED spun a golden yellow. He blinked in quick succession to collect his words. ‘Light touches, sir, I need to get used to you,’ he said, ‘and then find one loose enough to tug on. They’re hyper sensitive, sir, so I should only need a couple of tugs.’

‘A couple of tugs, eh?’ Hank shifted on his feet so he could get the use of his other hand back. He immediately ran it through Connor’s hair as he slid his fingers gently over the thin wires.

Connor remained silent but when Hank looked up his mouth was open, gaping like a drowned fish.

Hank let his hand get caught on Connor’s hair to tilt his head back and kissed up his exposed throat whilst his fingers tested the thin wires once more. He remembered his thumb suddenly and brought it back up, it helped in fact to control the movement of his fingers.

Connor’s white hands on the wall glowed a soft blue, he was close. His spine where the plate had opened and on his neck where Hank’s lips touched were also white, but the expanse over his head remained still to keep in place his hair. Connor said before he liked the run of fingers through it. Hank kissed the plastic skin, running the smoothness under his teeth.

‘I’m ready, sir,’ Connor said and his voice came out all distorted like the one-time Hank fully tested his unrelenting stamina by making him come over and over again for hours.

Hank almost froze. He never would have thought in a million all this could have such a strong effect on Connor and he hadn’t even come yet! Swallowing, he ran his middle finger over each little wire to find the loosest one and, when one seemed malleable enough to slip a digit under, he shifted his focus onto it. He ran his hand through Connor’s hair again and tugged on the wire.

Connor let out a soft moan, ‘Hank.’

He tugged again and Connor shuddered, squirming his hips back against Hank’s hand, although not enough to disturb his fingers. He wanted Hank to be in total control.

‘Touch it while moving your thumb, sir, please. I just need a few more tugs,’ he said, voice low and hollow. Hank, scared out of mind, thought he’d killed him the first time he ever heard it. Imagine that, the famous deviant hunter finally going down by having his electronic brains fucked out from some good old wire tugging and shifting.

Hank chuckled when he thought about it now and Connor whimpered in response, reminding him of the present. He decided to do as asked, however, since he didn’t really know enough about these newly discovered wires to tease Connor in a way that wouldn’t lead to hurting him. So he raised his thumb slowly only to plunge it down again in between those two thick wires. He tugged the loose wire once, gradually raising his thumb up and then double tugged.

Connor tensed, hands on the wall bunching into fists. His legs wobbled slightly as he came in silence. Hank shifted the hand from his hair to his side to keep him stable while circling his thumb all the way through it.

Connor bowed his head when finished and finally Hank removed his hand from the panel. Seeing it carefully shut after him, he ran his hands over Connor’s clothed shoulders and kissed the white skin still showing on his nape.

Connor hummed softly and started to turn around. Hank stepped back to let him. He reached up to take Hank’s face in his hands and kissed him.

After a second, Hank made a certain noise and it caused Connor to pull back in concern. ‘Lieutenant, something wrong?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, it’s nothing,’ Hank said. ‘I only noticed this is our first kiss of the night.’

Connor raised an eyebrow. ‘It doesn’t have to be the last.’

‘Romantic,’ Hank scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he leaned in to kiss him, nonetheless. He felt a hand snake down to the bulge still tenting his pants and jumped back when Connor went to explore some more. ‘Hey, hey, I’m not getting off in this uniform,’ he said. ‘As much as I’d love to, the mess would not be worth the trip to the dry cleaners.’

‘Understood,’ Connor said, head tilted to the side. ‘So what you’re saying, Lieutenant, is that we need to take the uniform off you, is that correct?’ Gaze dropping, he slid a still white hand down to rest over his chest, right where he’d put while they’d been dancing, and then glanced up in that way he did, playfully sparkle in his eyes.

‘No, that is not correct, Connor,’ Hank said, resisting the urge to smile as well when the smirk already on Connor’s face grew stronger. ‘It’s not correct at all.’ He didn’t mean his words at all and Connor knew all the signs to be able to tell he was lying.

**Author's Note:**

> If requested I may write the sequel to this with what happens next to Hank... :[
> 
> [this piece of amazing fanart](http://rainnoir.tumblr.com/post/176390553373/rainnoir-im-so-thankful-i-found-you-song) is referenced when they're dancing
> 
> Can you tell, I'm in that 'i hate BJs' mood? :P


End file.
